…1943 to 2022…
Years ago, I started thinking of life and ages a bit like in The Neverending Story with the approach, the rustle, the breeze and then the gale of The Nothing, minus the “nothing” part because I’m a person of faith.
More recently, I’m thinking of it as if there were an approaching twilight as the world turns and it slowly envelopes certain birth years … at this moment, it seems to be taking those born in the late 1930s or early 1940s … some either side as well.
By this model, I’m still quite some time away but of course, nothing is certain and what our readers in their mid to late 80s … and dare I say even in their late 70s … think about it all … how they feel about things … is something I can’t conceive of, not feeling mortal in the least.
A dangerous mindset, liable to attract the unwanted attention of the reaper. So the reaper’s working on the last of the war children right now, eh … hmmmm … interesting.
I’ll never get out of my head being at the beach during one Oz stint, it was evening, a group of us were strolling along the beach I think and up near the pier was a carnival, a real one, and through its tannoys: “The Carnival is Over”. The night breeze was changing direction and sometimes the music came to us, sometimes it faded.